


there's ritual in the dance, my love

by benditlikepress



Category: NCIS
Genre: Canon Compliant, Episode Tag, F/M, Post-Episode: s10e08 Gone, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:35:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25051006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/benditlikepress/pseuds/benditlikepress
Summary: set directly after the events of 10x08 ‘Gone’. Tony and Ziva head home after dinner with Shmeil
Relationships: Ziva David/Anthony DiNozzo
Comments: 27
Kudos: 73





	there's ritual in the dance, my love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [boomerbird10](https://archiveofourown.org/users/boomerbird10/gifts).



> i've seen a million different spellings of Shmeil's name online so i'm putting my faith in the gods of imdb.  
> title from kiss and resolve by the maccabees

“You don’t have to do that.”

“You already paid for dinner.”

“I won’t hear anything else about it.”

Tony and Ziva both conceded as Shmeil paid the taxi driver outside of Ziva’s apartment.

It wasn’t often both of them drank enough to be over the limit, and though neither of them were drunk they’d definitely indulged a little at dinner. Ziva had pre-empted by driving them back to her apartment to drop her car off before dinner, and Tony had made a comment wondering how she could tell the difference driving under the influence to her normal driving which earned him a look so deadly he thought he might get left on the pavement. 

Unlike the old days, though, it died instantly, and he didn’t think it would be presumptuous of him to say all 3 of them had had a great time. Any trepidation Tony had had about spending so long intruding on their dinner had soon been dissipated when Shmeil almost immediately started to tell him stories about Ziva that he listened to with a rapture he hoped he managed to cover at least a little.

Tony walked with the old friends into Ziva’s building without hesitation, which earned no reaction from Ziva but a sly look from Shmeil in his direction.

"Tell me, are you staying the night?"

"Oh, no. No."

They'd spent a lot of the first portion of the evening fielding questions about their relationship, particularly after Shmeil finally made the connection between the Tony DiNozzo sat in front of him and the Tony that Ziva apparently talks 'ten to the dozen' about on the phone. He would've made fun of her for it, were he not certain that every story he told people about his life invariably led back to her in one way or another.

“Just a doorstep delivery service.”

“Ah, a real American gentleman, hey?”

“Do not say that, he will never forget it.”

“Old Hollywood.”

“Y’know, Shmeil, if you’re ever looking for a job I could always use a new partner.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I think I’m best leaving the excitement to the young ones.”

“Young? This just keeps getting better.”

The look Ziva threw him over her shoulder as they reached her door was the kind of eyes-glinting smile, teasing but amused, that had been known on occasion to send a flicker of something through his stomach. He felt the smile spread on his own face as she turned back around to unlock the door.

The apartment was dark and cool, Shmeil’s bags sat ceremoniously in the centre of the room where Tony had dropped them earlier. He made a beeline for them, removing his coat and placing it over the suitcase handle while Ziva turned on the lights.

“Do you want to stay for a drink?”

The question was innocent as it always was, but even so Tony’s eyes involuntarily flickered towards Shmeil. The man wasn’t listening, too busy organising his bags and moving them across the floor.

“I should probably get back, it’s pretty late. Here, let me do that.” Tony dropped his wallet from his hand onto the counter as he grabbed the bags and pushed them across the room towards the wall against the bathroom.

“You will soon learn that an hour with Shmeil turns into five.”

“I think I have reached my limit, regrettably - it is time for me to retire. Ziva, my dear, why don't you escort the gentleman home?"

"Oh, that's really not necessary." Tony began to object but Ziva was already kissing Shmeil on the cheek.

"I will be back soon."

“Really, there’s no rush. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"That list can't be long, huh?" Tony held out his hand to shake but was a little startled when the man pulled him in for a hug.

"We must see each other again before I leave. Ziva will arrange something. Goodnight to you both."

"Night, Shmeil."

"Lock the door after we leave, yes?"

"I can't believe I get by without you." Shmeil called as he walked towards the bathroom.

Alone in the entrance Ziva kicked off her heels, but before Tony could make assumptions that she wasn't leaving after all she was picking up some boots she had discarded by the door and pulling them onto her feet.

"You really don't have to walk me home, y'know. It's like a 40 minute round trip."

"You walk me home all the time."

"So?"

"Do not be a chauvinist, Tony. I can walk you home."

"How often do I leave my own place to take you there? You're already at your apartment. Plus I'm a federal agent with a gun."

"And I am a trained assassin, but that does not stop you walking me home." When Tony didn't follow her towards the door, Ziva shrugged and stepped back. "OK, suit yourself. I will see you on Monday."

Tony tipped his head away, looking at the door with a smirk. "Alright, alright. Come on."

"Oh, so after all of that you actually want my company?"

“You’re being nice, figure I should make the most of it.”

“It is amazing how quickly you can make me regret it.”

Ziva opened the door and beckoned Tony outside. The two of them started walking back towards the stairs.

"Just for the record, I don't need protecting."

"I never said you did. I am not sure I should admit it now, but I was just reluctant for the evening to end."

“Oh yeah?”

“Hm. Do not let it go to your head.”

"Shmeil would've kept you company if you'd asked."

"Shmeil is an 80-year-old man who has just flown across the world."

"That's true."

"Besides, it is you I wanted to talk to."

He’d always found a walk sobering, but this time it was the sincere, bordering on quiet tone in her voice that did the trick. He stared at her as she looked down the stairs nonchalantly.

"How drunk _are_ you?"

“Not at all, actually. I just had a nice time tonight.”

“Me too. It was fun.”

“I am glad to hear that. You were reluctant to come.”

“It wasn’t that. Didn’t want to interfere.”

“It is not interfering, Tony. I would like for important people in my life to meet each other.”

Ziva would rarely be so bold as to say it but Tony could tell that it was the truth. He could barely remember her as carefree as she was tonight – a complete lack of censorship on her actions, no looking over her shoulder or holding back things she didn’t want them to know. He hadn’t realised it was still possible to see new sides of her after all this time but tonight had felt different. Seeing her around someone from her past who seemed to encourage an easy humour and level of comfort in her, compared to Tony’s observations of the ways she acted around a lot of the other people he knew from the time in her life before he met her.

Shmeil had drank both of them under the table while cycling through a menu of conversation topics: deep questions about Tony’s life that made him squirm while Ziva rolled her eyes, incredible tales from his own, and anecdotes from Ziva’s childhood that made her cover her face with her hands in childish embarrassment as Tony watched her with a swell in his chest.

Once they reached the ground floor they walked back out onto the deserted street and turned left in the familiar direction of Tony’s apartment. They walked in silence for the first block or so, occasionally stealing glances at each other.

"Shmeil does not believe me, about you and I."

The comment was barely addressed at him, more at the road in front of them. As though she’d been playing it over in her mind. "No?"

"I am already imagining the questions I am going to get in the morning."

"Questions like.. how did YOU land a guy like HIM?"

The sentence came out a little louder than he'd intended, more on the edge of tipsy than he'd realised, and Ziva rolled her eyes.

"Oh yes, exactly like that."

"Less of the sarcasm, alright? You could do a lot worse than Anthony DiNozzo."

"I think I already have."

Tony laughed along, though he didn't much like to think about the incidents he knew she was talking about. He knew she didn't, either, and perhaps her decision to joke about them surprised them both because she didn't linger on the moment long before she changed the subject.

"So, did my _friend_ live up to your expectations?"

"He..." Tony began, before chuckling and shaking his head. "You get a kick of it, don't you?"

"Out of what?"

"Torturing me."

"Maybe I was a little curious to see how you would react. I confess, perhaps I enjoy it when you get flustered. _Some_ of the time."

"Flustered? I don't get-" He stopped when he caught the mischievous expression on Ziva's face. She looked so young when she smiled like that. "Alright, touché. But you can’t blame me. So soon after all of that before Thanksgiving, telling me we were 'past caring', suddenly there’s this attractive guy you’re talking about all the time."

"I never said I found him attractive. You assumed I did, because of your green hands."

"My what?" Tony usually prided himself on his ability to understand Ziva's personal idioms, but even he was at a loss.

"Your jealousy, yes?"

"Green _eyes_. Red handed."

"You are not denying it."

"Why would I be jealous?"

The question, playful in tone, was teetering dangerously close to an unspoken boundary.

“I think that is for you to question yourself with.”

“Alright, OK. I’ll give that one a think.”

The two of them smiled into the silence as they crossed the street. "Seriously, though. He was great. And it's good to leave somewhere feeling like I've actually made a positive impression on someone in your life."

As she laughed she slipped her arm through his, the same way she had on the way to her car. "There are a lot of people in my life with whom you have made a good impression, Tony."

"Just not your family or anyone you knew as a child, huh?"

"I expect that is as much their faults as it is yours. Calling my aunt a dirtbag, though, was all on you."

"That really was an innocent mistake."

"Hm. You are lucky she has a sense of humour."

"Not a trait that runs in the family, huh?"

"Did it ever occur to you, Tony, that you are simply not very funny?"

"Nope, that's not it."

She squeezed the fingers on his arm with a hint of affection that had him looking at her face to gauge what she was thinking. She caught his eye before looking away.

It felt familiar but somehow so new between them - contentment bordering on giddy and the feeling of her arm through his, her hand wrapped warmly around his arm.

He was glad she'd taken the initiative though it was a more subtle move than taking his hand; something he'd thought about doing a hundred times before, never certain how she'd react.

He thought, if he'd done it tonight, she would've clasped her fingers around his. Then again, he always had been a coward.

A yawn built in his throat, and as he tried to stifle it, it caught Ziva's attention.

"You really _are_ tired."

"Long day today."

"You did not have to stay all evening if you were tired - I know once Shmeil and I get talking it can be a little hard to derail."

"Ziva, seriously. I wanted to be there." The sincerity in his tone had her eyes stuck to him. "Besides, I couldn't miss out on all of those stories about your teen rebellion phase."

"You are exaggerating."

He thought about how young she'd still been when they first met: boisterous and intimidating and almost exhausting to keep up with. How they'd met in the middle with age: teasing and challenging but also quiet and supportive, more honest than they'd ever been. Tony knew he was getting too old for games.

"This really was important to you." He changed tack as he watched the expression on her face; the way it had softened during the interaction.

"It is not often I get an opportunity to bring together the two sides of my life in a way that allows for a good time like this. I am just glad the two of you got to spend time together."

"Me too."

She seemed as though she was surprised at the words, and he thought back to her reaction when he’d mentioned their new relationship dynamic after what happened with Harper Dearing. It had been a bit of a joke; the ‘post-elevator us’, the newest chapter in some kind of dramatic saga, but there was enough truth in it that he could recognise the way his voice had got a little hesitant as he was saying the words, and the way Ziva almost frowned at how unexpected it was.

She was looking at him like that again now. Still trying to navigate what all of this meant – that they could apparently walk down the street arm in arm and not make any comment on the fact. That they could hang out with Ziva’s loved ones and relax and joke and nobody talk about Ari or Eli or anything else that might threaten to send a prickle up either of their backs. He wasn’t sure if Shmeil was primed for that, though he expected from the cues he’d gotten during dinner that he knew more about Ziva’s life since she came to the States than most people did.

"How long's he staying?"

"Just a couple of days. He is a busy man."

"Oh yeah, I can see that. I wanna be like that at his age."

"I thought you wanted to retire to a desert island and be fanned by beautiful women?"

It didn't seem the right time to mention that in his daydreams of retirement in the not too distant future, there was only 1 beautiful woman he managed to picture by his side. "That too. But I still wanna have the energy to get up and do things."

"Yes, I am sure you _do_."

It was easy as far as innuendos went but that had never stopped them before, and chuckles cooled the conversation back down in the quiet night-time air.

It was an unseasonably warm night and Tony reluctantly pulled his arm out from Ziva's to remove his overcoat, folding his arms to hold the garment folded over his suit jacket.

He hoped Ziva would link her arm through his again but she didn't, though the gap between them seemed to get even smaller as they continued to walk.

"Strange case."

"Yes, it was. It is nice to get a happy ending once in a while."

"Lydia took a shining to you, huh?"

“Her whole life has been turned upside down. I hope things work out for her.”

“You did a good job with her.”

Ziva thought this through for long enough that Tony turned his head to look at her. “Some of the things she said.. resonated with me, I suppose. If I could be of help, then that is only a positive.”

He saw that it really was that simple to her: to help people who needed it, particularly those who she could empathise with from the things that had happened in her own life. He knew there were still things she didn't talk about, but he wondered if she realised just how much that had become a part of her now. An instinct to advocate for those who needed it. It was one of the biggest things he'd grown to admire about her.

Conversation died down as they walked in rhythm. Tony could remember a time when he hated being quiet around Ziva - constantly forging conversation to try and keep a foothold of their dynamic lest she take control completely. Now, though, it was a mark of something between them: a new kind of satisfaction, that they could so easily and often walk in step without needing anything to say.

In spite of the quiet camaraderie, though, there was still an energy between them as they continued walking that Tony was finding it difficult to ignore.

If they'd been ‘post-elevator us’ before he wasn't sure what to call how they'd been since that damn camera film. He still didn't quite know what made him tell her about his mother that day, but he was sure it had inspired her honesty in recent weeks. Both of them were seemingly making an effort to involve the other in elements of their lives they didn't show to anyone else. Sentimentality over-riding their interactions in the wake of honesty.

Tony thought about Thanksgiving, when Ziva had arrived late after Tali's birthday and had leaned over his shoulder to whisper a thank you in his ear and kiss him just in front of it. If anyone had noticed, they didn't comment. She'd sat down next to him and her hand ended up on his lower thigh as she talked, natural and instinctual, not even giving it a glance as she engaged people in conversation across the table. Like her arm through his tonight, seeking out an invisible bond - something uncharted, still a little fresh, as they carried on with their lives as normal.

Things were different still, tonight. There was something in the air around them - a buzzing, low hum, far beyond the alcohol, that caught onto their words and forced their eyes together again and again.

“Invite me out again, if the two of you do anything else. Only if you want to – no big deal.” He tacked on the end, hurried and uncharacteristic. “Wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“No, I would like that. I think Shmeil would too – I think he is always searching for opportunities to tell these stories about me as a child. Usually I do not give him the chance.”

“I am definitely a willing listener, be sure he knows that. And if he has any photos, that’d be great.”

“I have nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Not saying you did.”

“Unlike some people.”

“Yeah, I bet McGee was a real nerd.”

“Tony.” Ziva raised her eyebrows at him. “You are forgetting – I have seen pictures of you as a child.”

He thought about the picture she’d stuck to her desktop, and then about the second one folded in his wallet. Sudden realisation, he lifted his coat and began to feel in his pockets.

“Crap. I think I left my wallet at your place.”

“I suppose now is not a good time to remind you that you still owe me for lunch.”

“What are you talking about? I just paid for dinner.”

“No, actually, you didn’t.” Ziva reminded him. “I will accept cash or transfer.”

"What kind of date are you?" Though it was a joke the truth behind it was not lost on him. It was beginning to feel more like one by the second. “I’ll pay tomorrow.”

“In that case, I cannot wait to see what culinary delights the vending machine is going to serve up.”

“Hey, beggars can’t be choosers, alright? If you’re looking for the Ritz you’ve come to the wrong place.”

“Now I know where we are going on our next night off.”

“My treat, naturally.”

“Well, it was your suggestion.”

“Oh, is that what just happened?”

“I would take somebody else, but I know how much that upsets you.”

“You-” Tony relented into a chuckle, shaking his head at Ziva’s smug expression. “What’s gotten into you tonight?”

“I am just in a good mood.”

“Oh no, I’m not complaining. Sure you’re sober?”

“As a fudge.”

“As a…. right, sure.” His arm bumped against hers as they turned a corner and she swayed into him momentarily before they separated out a few millimetres again. He watched as she lifted her hands to readjust the belt of her skirt. “That can’t be comfortable to walk in.”

“What do you mean? It is just clothing, Tony, it is not a straitjacket.”

“Yeah, but.. I don’t know. It’s tight.”

“Well I appreciate the concern, but I can assure you I still have a full range of motion.”

“Good.” The word made Ziva smirk and he felt a little bubble of electricity again, slight alcohol-infused buzz mixed with adrenaline. “It does looks good, though. Can you fit knives under that?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“I would, actually.”

Her eyes were glinting now as he looked at her, mouth upturned. She tipped her head as she looked back at the pavement ahead, now on Tony’s block. Mouth fixed in a grin that grew a little wider as she evidently felt Tony’s eyes still transfixed on her face.

“I will leave that for you to figure out for yourself.”

“Got to keep them guessing, huh?”

“Something like that.”

It was far too soon that they reached his apartment building, and Tony regretted not dragging his feet earlier in the journey – energy between them still loaded and anticipatory.

He came to a reluctant stop a little way back from the entrance, and Ziva eventually turned around to face him. She was standing under a streetlight that made her eyes even brighter than they had been all night.

"D'you wanna come up for a nightcap?"

“I thought it was too late for a drink?”

“Fresh air has perked me up.”

Ziva rolled her eyes at Tony knowingly before looking up at the building for effect and then back down at him.

"Shmeil is insisting on sleeping on the couch, I do not want to get back too late."

"Sure."

"Another time." She added, and Tony wondered if he was reading into it too much.

Then, her smile turned knowing, and he was certain they both knew what was going unsaid.

"I'll hold you to that."

He knew the precipice they'd been standing on for years they were teetering on the edge of right now. Dropping pebbles down the drop to test the landing.

He wondered if, understanding there would probably be a step back in the morning when they were sober and rested, he should just take the jump. He could see Ziva was considering it, too - eyes flicking down his face towards his lips periodically, turning her head to look out at the street at an invisible passerby to find a way to delay the conversation.

The next time she looked back at him he caught her gaze, not allowing her to look away.

"What?"

It was bold of him to say it, and he could see she thought so too in the way she tried to hide any reaction. Swiftly recovered, she tilted her head.

"How drunk are _you_?"

"Not really. But I'm not exactly sober."

"Hm. OK."

"Was that the wrong answer?"

"It-" She'd started replying instinctively and paused as she considered the words, face evolving into an amused expression. "I should be getting home." The sigh accompanying the words, conceding, was even more obvious than Tony's own.

"Sure."

Her fingers came up to the corner of her mouth and scratched the skin there. She drew her finger along her bottom lip absently before withdrawing it and the motion attracted his eyes to the area, just as her own eyes were continually stuck to the same place on his. He fought the urge to look away quickly when she caught him.

It would've been so easy to do something about it. Just as it had been the other million times they'd been at this crossroads, neither one of them taking the plunge.

He knew she was thinking it too, and that's why the next time she went to speak and nothing came out of her open lips he just smiled and nodded.

"Some other time."

His repeated intentions, abstract as the words were, were clear. A quiet promise. One day.

She took the invitation to redirect their thoughts back to the present. "Do you want a ride in the morning?"

It took him a moment to remember he left his car in the NCIS parking lot. It was easy for them to return to normal after something like this. Maybe if it wasn't, something would've happened for real sooner. But no: he knew she'd pick him up in the morning and they'd bicker over where to buy coffee and sit at their desks and make a joke at McGee's expense and Gibbs would come in with a case and they'd drive to the scene together in comfortable silence.

This is how they were. This is what they did.

“Thanks. Not at 5am, though."

"Of course not, we are out late. 5:30."

The dry almost cocky way she could talk, squinting her eyes at him in assessment, had always sent a rush of blood to his head. "Of course. You have a reputation to protect."

"Both of us do."

"Well, yours is being the first into the office. What's mine?"

Ziva looked at him for a long moment, still appraising him. He could tell she was toying with him, well aware of what had been going through his mind all evening. Even more so when a smile fightingly began to form on her face.

"Your reputation as the one who shows up to the office still half-asleep."

"Right. Of course. Don't think I won't throw you under the bus if I get in trouble."

"Oh, I would not expect any less."

Silence fell again and he continued to grin at her, lopsided in that way she could elicit.

He expected her to make some attempt at leaving but she didn’t, hesitating in front of him and casting another glance down the street. When she looked back and still didn’t say anything by way of goodbye, he pulled out his phone.

"What are you doing?"

"Calling you a cab."

"That is ridiculous, Tony. It is a 20 minute walk."

“Think of it like a favour.” He knew he was searching for a reason to delay having to say goodbye, feeling more than ever that there was something between them tonight that he didn’t quite want to let go of.

“What – having to pay for my own taxi because you forgot your wallet?” Without warning her hand came out and grabbed his phone from his grip. She’d taken a step closer to him now and he wondered if she could feel the way his pulse had quickened beneath her fingertips as he tried to move his hand away a second too late. “Unlike some people, I am sober enough to still have quick reflexes.”

“I’m not drunk.”

“No, I believe you.”

“Just took me by surprise. If you tried again, you’d have a fight on your hands.”

“Hah.” Ziva guffawed but put his phone back into his hand, and he stood dumbly as she enclosed his fingers around it.

"OK, well. Text when you get back."

He couldn't remember the first time he'd asked her to. He didn't say it often, and god knows Ziva David of all people could take care of herself, but he liked the strange little smile the words instinctively elicited that she would try to hide.

“Remind me about your wallet.”

“I will.”

“And make sure you get some sleep – Gibbs would not want you showing up _sober_ in the morning.”

“Yes Boss.”

By the time conversation dried up again and they were both still dawdling, Tony couldn’t hide his amusement at their hesitation. It made Ziva’s eyebrows quirk.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to call you a cab?”

“Yes, I am sure.”

“So what’s this?”

Knowing she’d been caught out hanging around rather than leaving she looked down the road again, away from him, and smiled out into the dark. “Now you are wanting to get rid of me?”

“Not at all. Curiosity.”

“I’m going now.”

When she looked back this time she looked a little more unsure, inhaling and letting her eyes again travel down to his lips. There was a piece of hair that had escaped from her ponytail curled down the side of her face. He reached out to tuck it behind her ear, watching the way her expression changed as he touched her.

"Alright. See you in the morning."

He hated the words as soon as they left his mouth, but he knew equally if he’d not said them they’d have been stood here all night waiting for the first person to blink.

Ziva approached him quickly then, as though having made a decision, and pressed a slow kiss to his left cheek. Her thumb rubbed his opposite cheek as she did so, and it lingered for a moment after she pulled her lips away before she separated from him entirely. He tried to hide his surprise.

"See you in a couple of hours."

After another second of hesitation she finally began to walk away, spinning on her heels and leaving him under the streetlight.

They’d come closer than usual tonight, but even so, here they were again: dancing around each other. Testing the limit. Dangling their feet over the edge and pulling them back in.

He watched her walk down the street until she was out of sight, turning her head back twice to see if he was still watching. Carefree smile still plastered on her face.


End file.
